


Afterparty

by qtscribes



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Odyssey (Video Game)
Genre: BACK ON MY BULLSHIT, Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Princess peach - Freeform, Smut, have fun reading this fbi man, my second fanfic, oh boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:24:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qtscribes/pseuds/qtscribes
Summary: Bowser gets his shit wrecked at the altar of his wedding with Peach and is left broken hearted and lonely until a certain red hero comes along to give him some company.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I both agreed that the pitiful amount of Bowser/Mario content on here is shameful so I'm writing this for her :3) Probably dont take this seriously tbh

    Lights gleamed faintly from their dying lanterns that hung heavy in what seemed to be a never ending array of diamond chandeliers that reflected dully off a ballroom’s worth of unused silverware and decorations. The expensive handmade tablecloths which had been made just for the occasion sat neatly on each table without a single crease in sight, and in the air hung the sweetness that could only come from having over twelve dozen bouquets in one room. The room which  _ had  _ been set for the perfect after party. Now it was just a painful reminder to Bowser of his failure to create the resemblance of a bond he’d longed for his whole life.

    I mean sure, he had kidnapped her and maybe used a bit of forceful “persuasion” to get her to marry him but the audacity! 

    He had worked so hard to make everything just right for Miss Princess Perfect and yet she still ran away at the altar with that no good hero with ruggedly handsome good looks- not that that mattered. But still, he was hurt. Forced or not he really thought he had a good chance this time. That maybe possibly something more could form of this arrangement. No one would willing try to associate themselves with a freak beast like himself after all. 

    Lost in his thoughts he grazed his scaly padded thumb across the veil that had been worn by the Princess earlier that day, it had been swooped up by the wind as she was carried away in the arms of her savior as he laid bruised and defeated with a heart that ached worse than any of his wounds. It had fallen at his feet and when he finally held the strength to push himself off of his cracked and scratched shell he found it rustling there mockingly before him in the now empty corridor. He had picked it up and hadn’t let go since, idly rubbing it feeling the rise and fall of each individual stitch as he continued his personal pity party. 

    He was usually not so broken up when this happened. I mean lord knows it wasn’t the first time he has pulled something like this and he should have expected this outcome in hindsight… but why did his chest still feel suffocatingtly tight? He hadn’t thought he broke or bruised any ribs in his battle against the significantly smaller hero, so how was it possible that he still sat here with an aching chest that felt as if he’d swallowed a knot. He let out a groan and surprised himself in the crack he heard within it. 

    The hero had really broken him this time hadn’t he.

    His thoughts drifted to the smug face of that mustached bitch. Why did he care so damn much? Did he love the woman or something- and why did that thought make his chest painfully tighter than the thought that maybe he just wasn’t Peach’s type. He’d always struggled with his self image being a giant half turtle man thing and all, plus the fact that Peach seemed repulsed by him hadn’t helped. His mother had always said he had a great personality, but how was he supposed to show case it with his plans constantly being shat on by a short, red, curvy, plump...ARGGH!!!

    He needed a damn drink. 

    Yes a drink would do nicely to wash away his sorrows and rid his thoughts of the tiny humans who burdened them daily. Getting up finally from the spot he’d spent the last hour or so in, he hadn’t bothered to keep track of time so who actually knows, he let out a grunt of pain as his knees buckled trying to support his bruised body and heavy shell and for a split second he was in the danger of falling flat on his face. That’d really be the perfect cherry to top this god awful night but the universe was kind enough to have placed a table within his reach that he catches himself on just in time. Of course not without knocking a few of the elaborate decorations off it in the process making for a graceless display as he clings to the place mats for his damn life.

    He winces as he stables himself slowly walking closer to the table to support more of his weight on it thankful he had ordered the extra strong tables, his people not being as small or gentle as his would of been bride. Finally gaining his composure, he lets out a loud huff through his nose proud of himself, he really deserves that drink now. 

    Wobbling from table to table to reach his destination of the ballroom’s bar, he makes quite the mess ruining the perfect setting as his tail clumsily thrashes behind him in his haste to reach the mind numbing liquids. At this point he could honestly care less as silverware and bouquets clatter nosily to the floor behind him. There was no one for the space to look nice for so to hell with it all. 

    He reaches the bar in impressive time all things considered, a triumphant roar breaking from his throat as he finally collapses behind the counter not minding the tight fit in his current state of mind his desperation over ruling his discomfort. He opens the first cabinet behind the counter ignoring the numerous bottles on display on the wall behind him- this is where the really good stuff is kept- and grabs the first bottle in sight easily popping the cap off with the flick of his thumb. Wasting no time he swings the bottle back easily downing all its contents in one gulp, it was going to take a couple of these before he really started feeling the alcohol in his system but the warmth was still pleasant as he wiped his lips and began to reach for the next. 

   The fleeting warmth chased away the ache in his chest, momentarily loosening the knot with each drink. He sat in relief beginning to pace himself as he went from slightly tipsy to definitely drunk the pause allowing him to realize something coarse was rubbing against his hand. His eyes roll down to his hand gazing at the white cloth still clenched firmly in place. Oh, right. Peach’s veil. The warmth seeps out of him as quickly as it came as he remembers the reason for him drinking in the first place. However, the face he sees flash across his mind does not belong to Peach, it’s rounder and has a big fat mustache sitting front and center. The thought startles him as much as it confuses him leaving him feeling suddenly trapped and distressed behind the now suffocatingly tight counter. 

   Why the hell was he still in his head?! His mind spun for answers, the several bottles he downed not helping as his world began to spin too, but he found himself just as lost as ever. Just as lonely as ever. Why did the only person who was constant in his life have to plague him like this. He wasn’t  _ that _ desperate for companionship. Sure being leader of his people was lonely at times but in no way would he ever seek validation from a red wearing, fat, oddly endearing, brave- he’s a plumber for god’s sake! Plus he was 87% sure he was straight, the other 13% a grayish area of uncertainty plagued by a man who didn’t even reach up to his knee. 

   That thought sent a pool of heat straight to his abdomen and he internally scolds himself for even imagining the possibilities of that circumstance. “It wouldn’t even be possible..” he grumbles to himself in bitter amusement as he reaches for the next bottle to try to drown these thoughts. The once pleasant warmth became a painful burn at the back of his throat as his mind becomes a puddle and his vision begins to swim. 

  
 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some Mario POV yayyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the bullshit continues

     The gloved white hand of my brother slaps my arm in congratulations and I flash him a long practiced smile allowing my hat to be snatched for the mandatory brotherly noggie of celebration. He returns the smile tenfold, pink dusting his cheeks, his mood obviously elevated from the booze we had all be consuming to celebrate yet another successful rescue of Princess Peach.

  Honestly it's nice. It really is. It's great being the hero all the time and having the same victory party thrown again and again and again. It's nice. Reallyyy nice. 

 I reach for my glass raising it to yet another toast thanking me for my heroic service and flash another perfect smile. Lowering my glass, I swing it back downing the remaining contents and push away from the table to stand. Brushing my own gloved hand over my brother’s shoulder I tell him I'm going to call it a night. Shooting me a questioning look I muster together the most apologetic smile I can and shrug off the concern in his eyes. No need to burden him with my weepy hero problems now and sour the mood.  

     I leave the warmth of the room and head outside where the crisp night air greets me wrapping me in a sense of calm for the first time in last couple weeks, the fighting was finally over, for now at least. I inhale deeply closing my eyes and let it hold me for a short moment of uninterrupted peace. 

     “Yooooohooooo! Mario!!” My eyes snap open in recognition of the voice before I’m even aware of who’s calling for me. The calm shattered and stepped on by the high pitched voice of my nightingale, I turn to greet Peach her blonde locks framing her face pleasantly in the little moonlight shining through the clouds. “Sorry I’m late!!” She says breathlessly, brushing her hands across the front of her poofy pink dress to remove the non-existent creases and flashing me one of her dazzling smiles.  

     “My Princess.” I greet, tipping my cap and giving a quick bow more out of habit than respect. “Oh please,” She says rolling her eyes and taking a step closer, brushing a soft silk covered hand against my arm, in a manner that seems a little more than friendly, her grip tightening when it reaches my bicep. “No need for such formalities, Mario.” She smiles at me sheepishly, her plump glossed lips stretching over her pearly white teeth. I quirk my brow at the satisfying sight, but hesitate to extend my own hand to her thinking maybe I’m just reading too far into these innocent actions. I don’t want to make the same mistakes of my past and misinterpret her kindness for affection.  _ That  _ time was pretty fucking embarrassing and something I’d rather not go through again. 

     “Why are you out here in this chill? You should be inside with the others celebrating.” She says after a long moment of silence, due to my lack of response to her prior statement lost in my own thoughts. The question drags me from my recollection of failures to seduce the princess standing before me, and leaves me further speechless as I remember why I’m standing out here in the first place. I stand opening and closing my mouth a cold dred setting into my stomach as each possible excuse or explanation melts behind Peach’s knowing gaze. “I…” I begin, but I'm quick to close my mouth, what would she think of me if I were to tell her my true feelings? How tired I've become of the same game over and over again for the past two decades. She places her other arm on me comfortingly, and steps even closer, the rim of her poofy dress brushing against the tips of my smudged and worn shoes. The arm that was once resting against my bicep, now reaches up, brushing it's way up my plump cheek tickling the light peach fuzz that rests upon it along the way, before rooting itself in my curly locks. I lean into the touch allowing her hand to cradle my head and momentarily chase away the mess of my thoughts swirling within. 

     “Peach..” I mumble, barely above a whisper. Our eyes locking as we stand together in the cool night air her tight embrace keeping the chill from settling into my bones. My heart flutters under my red vest as shivers, not from the cold, race over my body while soft hands continue to lightly graze my scalp in comfort, the light touches intoxicatingly sweet. Maybe I hadn’t been reading too far into Peach’s actions? Gazing deep into her eyes I feel dizzy as my cheeks flush at the thought, it's no secret that we have chemistry. I mean it tends to happen when you save a person a couple dozen times. But could it be now finally? Was Peach trying to show me that she accepts my desires for her? Maybe this wouldn’t be like last time. 

     Emboldened by my own self assuring thoughts and our current position, I finally extend my own hand, the soft fabric of my white glove grazing over the back of her neck tickling the baby hairs that her ponytail could not hold. Her impossibly blue eyes widen, and I close my own, leaning closer, close enough to feel her soft breath against the hairs of my mustache. Her hands fall from my face as I lean in to close the distance between the two of us, my heart racing a mile a minute in anticipation. My lips meet something soft and surprisingly... silky? 

     “Mario!!” Peach yells, and my eyes flutter open in confusion to find Peach’s gloved hand in front of her preventing our lips from meeting. Mortified, I quickly lean back embarrassed and ashamed. Fuck not again.

     “I-I...I don’t understand!” I exclaim, exasperated at acting like a fool once again. “You…!” I frown, flushed cheeks burning and making my chest tighten, my mind racing for an escape plan while also yelling for me to demand her reason as to  _ why not _ . I suck in a sharp breath, forcing down the embarrassment of being refused once again, and meet Peach’s critical stare with my own, my brows furrowed in frustration. 

     “Why not-” 

     “I’m fucking your brother.” She interrupts, not even letting me finish before taking every shred of hope I’ve had over the years and stomping it beneath her beautiful, flawless pink heels. Realization of what she said slowly sinks in and my mouth falls shut, hand falling defeatedly back to my side in shock. Her expression softens from the stern look of rejection she wore moments before, and she reaches out to me once again. “I’m sorry, Mario,” She says gently, “but I only date tall guys.” 

     They’re the six most crushing words a woman could ever say to me. I pull away from her touch and face away now sad, embarrassed, AND heartbroken. Tonight is really just shit. And Luigi that bastard… he didn’t even tell me! How long have they been lying to me? My sadness morphs into a nasty shade of pure red anger and I turn back to Peach. “Well then, since I’m certainly not what or who you’re look for, why don’t you just head in and find my brother and you two can go  _ celebrate _ together.” I drawl out, turning with my hands stuffed into my pockets to leave, “Tell him I said congratulations!” 

     “Mario…” She says, taking a step after me. My mind screams for me to not turn around, that I should keep walking, that I have every right to be pissed that my own brother and best friend have been getting it on behind my back. But, a part of me, the one that reminds me that I love both of them, and despite being tired of playing the same game time and time again, I would do it all again for them, makes me stop. 

     A sigh escapes my lips, my mustache rustling lightly in the cool nighttime breeze. I turn and look at Peach who’s standing just a few feet away and quirk my brow at her to show her I’m listening. Her eyes meet mine and she clasps her hands together fiddling with the fabric of her gloves anxiously. 

     “We...we’re still friends?” She asks uncertain, the moon casting her in an enchanting glow, highlighting the sincerity in her face. My hands clench into fists in my pockets, and I give her a weak smile unable to fully put on a front in my current state, “Sure.” I say softly, despite still being super pissed, I couldn’t bring myself to be petty towards Peach. She is my Princess after all. A small thankful smile forms on her lips and her hands drop to smooth the front of her crease-less dress before joining together in the front, fingers intertwined. I nod at her telling her that she should head in and out of the cold now and she does so with one last look over her shoulder and a quiet good night. 

     I watch the last of her poofy dress disappear behind the main door and stand in my solitude for a moment, attempting to find the peace the night gave me before this whole incident. I don’t. Tired of standing there like a total wank, I decide it’s time to try and put this behind me and begin my trek out into the night to my unknown destination. I didn’t know exactly where to go or where I even wanted to go, but one thing was certain, it had to be as far away as fucking possible from this place. 

     My mind swirls around widely shoving each negative thought down my throat as I wander further and further into the darkness of the night. My mood which had been already pretty sour at the beginning of the night, was now putrid in comparison. Despite telling Peach we could still be friends, I really didn't wanna see her for a while because of that mess of an interaction where I made an ass of myself once again. But in comparison, Luigi was dead to me. I debate to myself whether I would punch him in the face or dick when I see him again. Why not both? I nod my head satisfied at that option. Both is good. But that probably wouldn’t be for a while, I don’t want to see him either. Plus it’s not like they would need me so soon anyway, after the recent defeat of Bowser, I seriously doubt he’d strike again so soon… I had beat him pretty hard. I come upon a creek and decide to take a small break, going over to the water's edge and sitting down to rest back on the palms of my hands the heels of my feet barely touching the edge of the water.

     My thoughts linger on the beast of a man. A brute certainly, but his creative plans to stop me from rescuing Peach always did impress. I had always secretly appreciated how interesting he made our personal battles, always keeping me on my toes, making me really work for it. He really knew how to change things up. If anything, he was the one part of this repetitive cycle that I actually kind of enjoyed, which was strange to think considering he was the one who keep making us repeat this silly little game with his constant pinning for Peach. He’d probably be devastated if he knew what I learned not too long ago... 

     I pause, leaning back I lay down against the soft earth, grass brushing against the back of my neck and tangling in my hair, and process the direction my thoughts are going.  _ He’d probably understand. _ Is all I can think. I wouldn’t consider him close personally, but I was currently pissed at all the close people in my life, and we currently have a lot more in common than I previously thought. He’d been rejected by Peach before, hell he’d been rejected multiple times, I’m certain he’d understand. My chest tightens suddenly, feeling as though it’s being stepped on, at the memories of the countless times I’d left him bruised and heartbroken. I blame the ache on my ability to relate to him now, not even entertaining the idea that maybe it’s because I care about his actual feelings. He was a monster! And an evil one for that matter…  _ but he’d understand _ , my mind reminds me once more. 

     I roll over onto my side and run my fingers through the grass frustrated and confused.  _ Isn’t his castle near here?  _ I groan and tear some grass that was clenched between my fingers out the ground. I totally was not feeling sympathetic towards and giant turtle man thing who happens to look really good in a white suit. Totally not. Nope. Not a chance. I think to myself as I sit up and begin to push myself to my feet. Totally not gonna go to his castle to see if he’s there. No way. I begin to walk in the direction I know the castle lies. Why the hell am I doing this.  

     Before I know it, my feet are climbing up the stone steps of the grand palace stepping over discarded decorations from the failed wedding. I carefully step around the scattered flowers of Peach’s  bouquet that had fallen from her hand when I had wrapped my arms tightly around her to carry her away. The thought of Peach makes the dull throb that had faded away in my arguments with myself return with a fierce vengeance. I quickly move past the flowers and stand before the looming doors that dwarf me with their impossibly heavy handles. The moment catches up with me as I raise my hand to knock and I freeze in place nerves causing sweat to begin to form on my forehead. This was a really dumb idea. I turn away from the door rubbing my face feeling the heat radiating from my cheeks. Oh come on you damn bastard!! I drag my hands down to rest on my cheeks and give them a couple slaps. You’re just showing up at your arch-nemesis castle where you kicked his ass not too long ago to talk to him about… about what, you’re not sure. I remove my hands from my face and let out a steady breath, shaking my hands at my sides a couple times to try to loosen up. Determined now, I raise my hand once again and form it into a shaky fist and pull it back to knock on the heavy doors. 

     “What are you doing here?”

     I let out a shriek, whirling around clutching my raised hand to my chest in alarm as my muddy brown eyes race up to lock with a pair of flaming red ones. It was Bowser. 


End file.
